JOKERZEN


In a field of fire she stood. Flames danced around her in waves of undulating foam, as flowers of yellow and red blew past her and her hair alight with the setting sun danced with a fire both within, and without. How like the fire, how like the night her changing moods flashing between light and dark. A sprite a fairy, a dancing pixie flitting to and fro, with a grace and serneity I could never grasp. In hand mead, or beer, a drink, a repast, a fine concoction for my noggin. And the smells of the night as they flowed by. This ones scent paid for high dollar. Thats ones smell, they needed a shower. That ones scent memories old. Here a smell, a bud, a nuggect gold. The sights the fire, the spinning ladies. The dancing the swaying the immerisification. Tribal and constant, yet somewhat depraved. Watching, cautious, dangerous plays. And twnkling starlight as the sun finally sets. Clouds cross the moonlight. Fleeting skins of flight. Then Wayne says. "Hey, Gotta nother beer?" "Sure" I say, realizing Wayne is nude, and the cops are pulling up on their ATV's. "Wayne, Run." I scream. As I throw my beach chair in front of the nearest ATV. Wayne dashes off towards the surf, as the local constabulary dethrones his fat ass from the mechanical wonder he always dreamed he'd be riding, and his partner, the knight errant in hot pursuit of Wayne. "Any idea why I'm stopping to chat with you, Sir?" A heavy saracasm on the sir, and a pork nose so becoming an officer the law, I quickly thought to myself, "Because your an inbred psycopath?" Shoving this thought aside quickly as any one carrying as much pot as me should do, I said. "Why, no sir. Is there a problem?" An immediate glare, and I knew I had probably said the wrong thing, because he really looked about ready to tell me what problem. What with the bonfire on a major beach. At 3 A.M. The kegs of empty beer laying in the sand. The two cars piled up on the beach. And the many naked people near by. When we both heard a shot. "Shit!" "Shit!?" We both said at the same time. Off we went running. Him forgetting his ATV. Me my clothes. We flat out were hauling ass towards the water and the parked ATV ahead, when we heard the laughing. Kinda made me slow down. Him to it seemed. Cresting the dune, we both beheld what was probably the funniest shit either of us had ever seen. Up on the beach was Wayne. It looked like he had tried to hide by rounding the dune and digging a hole. What neither Wayne, nor the following officer knew was what was on the other side of that dune. From all appearances Wayne was dying. He was doubled up. looking in obvious pain. He made retching noises. One would believe he had caught the plague from all his noises. Whining and sniveling and rolling around with his pecker swinging about. What was funniest was his head was caught in a beach chair. He couldn't get loose and his sniveling and crying kept growing along with his wretching. He looked so pitifull it was funny. His begging soon drew a crowd along with the other officers. Forgotten was the fires on the beach and the nude people as we all joined in to laugh at Wayne's upturned ass, head caught in a chair, and the moanings of a lunatic. One of the officers found some air between laughs to suggest his partner book him. His partner also laughing tells him he aint arresting some nude puking hippy unless he hauls his sorry ass to the water. Then the conversation between the two goes to where a nude person arrested is going to sit on the ATV. One partner suggest behind the first, the other suggest across the front grill hog tied and they both fall to laughing again. It's with obvious effort the two bring themselves to the task at hand of freeing Wayne's head from the chair, when the one brings up a flash light to see how his head has become caught. There. In the glow of the light. Not more than six inches from Wayne's puking mouth. is a breast. A rather shapely breast. And some signs of a ribcage. Part of an arm. All these appear to be part of the sand dune in front of us. They sprout out. Like a growing thing. It is now we understand Wayne's groanings. Now we here his words for what they are. Now we comprehend. "Yousonabitchesletmeuppleasethisbitchisdeaddudeitouchedhertitdammitpleaseshestinksohpleaseletmeuphelpmemyheadisstuckpleasemanpleasegodhelpmeshesdeadohshesdeadshesdeadshesdead" no longer laughing the cops pull Wayne abruptly. Ripping his head free of the chair, minus the clump of hair that had become entagled in it trapping Wayne in the first place. The cop tosses the chair aside, paying as much attention to it as he is to Wayne. All eyes are glued on what now we all realize is a corpse. The corpse of a young woman. Buried on a public beach. The cop who pulled Wayne free bend forward with his light, shining it directly on the body as his partner radios for help. With his hand he starts brushing away sand from the shoulder region. "Ron, I wouldn't tamper with it. It's evidence." "Shut up Bill, It's a girl. I have to know." "It won't do any good knowing man, leave her alone till the crime scene guys get here." With an final abrupt sweep of his hand the cop reveals some hair. Black. Long. He grabs the sand above the hair and throws away handfuls until the face is revealed. When it is titled towards the light and the face comes into view a gasp escapes the cops. "Shit Bill, it's her." "Dammit Ron, I said leave her alone I meant it. Now back off, this is gonna be big, and any screw ups could cost us. Got me?" "Yeah, yeah I got ya. What should we do?" "Round up all these hippes. Get em dressed. We DONT need all the extra paper work busting them is gonna cause. Get em questioned. Names ect. But get them away from this crime scene." "Right." In the distance sirens come closer. As Ron rounds me and my group up, sending us scampering for our clothes I hear Bill say "Dammit why me? Why now? I just wanted to retire." Both the cops seem to have forgotten us. They gave us our orders and without checking sent us on our way. They knew. We knew. This was too important for any of us to walk away with saying what we had seen. It's not often one comes in contact with royalty. Even dead royalty. We would all come back. Dressed as suggested. This was the beginning of of something big. And everyone wants to say they were there. Well here we were. If only we all had know what it really meant we may have slinked away quietly. Then again maybe not.